


as if you'd just woke up

by ceramize



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Extreme Levels of Sap, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Sleepy Cuddles, That's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceramize/pseuds/ceramize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koushi's in love. Oh god, he's in love.</p><p>But hasn't he been from the start?</p>
            </blockquote>





	as if you'd just woke up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [circeltea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/circeltea/gifts).



> happy birthday darling!

Koushi wakes to the sound of rain dancing on the eaves of the roof, to a streetlamp shining through tangled blinds onto his face, to a heavy, deliciously warm weight all along his back. There’s an arm slung across his middle, tanned and toned, a square, calloused hand covering his own.

Huh. Daichi must’ve spent the night.

The sleepovers, at this point, are the periodic, unspoken byproducts of their study sessions. Ever since Takeda-sensei had made a point warning them to keep hold of their academics as third-years, their Fridays after practice are spent at one or the other’s house. They pore over their notes, first, for as long as they can stay focused, and then tapings of games, which they can never stay away from for too long.

But the cuddling - it’s something spontaneous, subconscious. Koushi is the morning person of the two, always up before Daichi, and he suspects he might be the only one fully aware of what they do.

Daichi sniffs quietly, and Koushi feels the tip of a cold nose press against the back of his neck. When he wakes, like always, they’re both going to act as if nothing happened. Koushi is too weak to not hoard these moments selfishly nonetheless.

* * *

It’s after their first practice, as new teammates at Karasuno, that Koushi and Daichi properly meet. They’re the last two in the locker room after cleaning up the gym, having just said goodbye to Asahi.

“It’s Sugawara, right?” Koushi looks up from his bag to see an outstretched hand, the other first-year smiling broadly at him.

“That would be me,” Koushi grins back, taking the proffered hand, and is hoisted to his feet. “And you’re Sawamura, right? You really impressed the captain back there, I’d think.”

“Thanks,” Daichi says, ducking his head modestly, but he doesn’t deny it. _He’s someone I’d follow,_ Koushi thinks. He exudes confidence and leadership, seems imperturbable and always in control. “I know you will, too.”

Koushi tries not to let his surprise show, but he still feels his face color. He’d never met anyone who had so much faith in him from the beginning, before now, and he knows, in turn, that he’s not going to let Daichi down - he’s going to surpass his expectations.

They’re still holding hands, Koushi realizes, but he doesn’t want to consider letting go. There’s an electric current buzzing between them, a tingling warmth settling into his veins.

* * *

They kiss, once. Or rather, Daichi kisses Koushi. Anyway, it doesn’t count, because Daichi doesn’t remember, but Koushi hasn’t stopped thinking about it since.

They’re at Daichi’s, the night they lose to Seijou, plastered drunk on his parents’ beer. Alcohol isn't something either of them have a proclivity for, but they’re both feeling old right now, and it seems somehow appropriate.

Daichi is lying half on top of Koushi, their half-empty cans clinking lazily against each other, and they’re both crying, a little bit, facing away from each other and pretending they’re not, right there on the hardwood floor of Daichi’s bedroom. The entire set-up is so ridiculous and _pitiful_ that Koushi is this close to giggling hysterically through the tears.

“Hey. Hey, Suga,” Daichi slurs, raising his upper body onto his elbows. Koushi flaps his hands halfheartedly in response. “Koushi,” he says, more firmly now, dropping his can to have a free hand, and turns Koushi’s face toward him. A trickle of beer runs its way toward the desk. “Koushi, we should’ve. We should’ve…”

“Should’ve what?” Koushi asks.

“ _Could’ve_ ,” Daichi corrects himself. He makes aborted little pats to Koushi’s cheek, his thought incomplete.

“We could’ve a lot of things,” Koushi says, with the kind of spurious wisdom reserved for two in the morning. He raises a hand to mirror Daichi, cupping his face in return.

Daichi leans - falls, really - downward, and they end up with their lips pressed clumsily together. Koushi’s frame tenses up, his heart fluttering a staccato rhythm in his ribcage. They’re drunk, this is a mistake, they shouldn’t be doing this, and he’s just made up his mind to push Daichi off as gently as he can when Daichi simply rolls off of him, ending this - whatever - as quickly as he’d started it.

“But we didn’t,” Daichi says, still on his fallacious train of thought as though he hadn’t been _kissing Koushi_ mere seconds ago.

For all that their sides are still pressed up together, as they lie staring up at the ceiling, Koushi can’t help but feel a sense of loss.

He wakes at noon the next day to a cold bottle of water sitting on his forehead, Daichi grinning weakly at him from his perch at the end of his bed, nursing his own hangover. They act like nothing’s changed, but Koushi finds himself hard-pressed to just let things go.

* * *

If he really thinks back on things, Koushi supposes, he falls for Daichi in stages. It’s almost just aesthetic, at first - the way he commands respect in a room, the curve of his jaw, the broad span of his shoulders, the melting warmth in his eyes. But they become fast friends, and all of a sudden there’s a whole slew of reasons:

How he embodies and leads their team’s defense.

How they’ve had a standing date getting pork buns at the convenience store for years, now, taking turns buying and just taking the chance to goof off together before parting ways for the night.

How he visits every day for a week when Koushi comes down with pneumonia, bringing him his coursework and updating him about practice, but mostly just keeping him company, ready to get him anything he needs.

How he doesn’t just take it in stride when Hinata accidentally calls them mom and dad, but embraces their newfound parenthood, to the first-years’ mortification.

How, sometimes, on the long drive home from away games, he’ll lean his head on Koushi’s shoulder, when everyone else is asleep, and take Koushi’s hands in his, thumbs running over his palms with unexpected gentleness.

It’s just a regular day of practice, actually, near the beginning of their third year, when it happens. Daichi is a new captain, but he’s settled into his role so fluidly, so efficiently, it’s like he’s had it for years. Koushi’s on the sideline of the court, observing and recording data with Shimizu, but his eyes keep going back to Daichi. He’s standing to the side as well, away from where most of their teammates are practicing spiking, talking quietly to Yamaguchi. Moments later, he gives the first-year a firm slap on the shoulder, and Yamaguchi nods, turns, and heads back onto the court, standing taller, surer than before. Daichi meets his eyes from the other side of the gym, looking proud and excited, _see what we can do_ , and.

Koushi’s in love. Oh god, he’s in love.

But hasn’t he been from the start?

* * *

And, really, haven’t the two of them always been walking the line between friendship and love?

(Dancing along it, perhaps, slow, slow, quick-quick, like they do behind the sports complex one night second year, after staying late for extra practice, spinning and giggling and _home_.)

* * *

A muted groan tickles the hair on the back of Koushi’s neck, and he revels in the way Daichi’s arm instinctively tightens around his waist.

“Raining?” Daichi says, voice morning-rough, more of an acknowledgement than a question.

“Yeah,” Koushi answers quietly, and, in a sudden surge of boldness, turns around to face him.

Daichi is smiling when their eyes meet, in the relaxed, candid way he has reserved for weekend mornings. His expression is oddly soft, filling Koushi with a sense of warmth that goes deeper than what the nest of blankets they’re curled under can provide.

Koushi returns the smile, lips curling upward gradually, leaning forward as much as he dares.

They meet halfway.

Their second first kiss is light, lingering, is smiling into each other’s mouths to the sound of falling water, slow and sugar-sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "first day of my life" by bright eyes.
> 
> thank you for reading!!
> 
> ceramize.tumblr.com


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